Labyrinth of Memory
by Yuliya aka AkeLLa
Summary: Hermione is 22, she works at the Ministry of Magic, and her life is quite stable. Everything would be okay if there were no strange dreams pursuing her at nights. One day Hermione and her friends go to the best sea resort of the magical world, and her life changes completely and totally unpredictably ...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to JK Rowling, Warner Bros, Bloomsbury Publishing, et cetera, this work is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work.

Author: Jane Evans. The Author has given official permission for translation.

Labyrinth of Memory is one of the most popular fanfics of the Russian fandom and the winner of Russian Dramione Awards as The Best WIP (the only possible award for that time).

**Chapter 1**

_Soundtrack—"London Bombs," by Eskimo Joe_

_She was walking across a cold Hogwarts hall. There was no one around, and the stony silence was only disturbed by her hasty steps. Torches illuminated the mostly bare walls, decorated with a few pictures of sleeping wizards. It was late at night, and Hermione should have been in her bed long ago if everything had been normal, but . . . She looked at her watch and stopped. Ten minutes more._

_Pressure was pumping in her temples, and her head felt as though it could explode at any moment. She closed her eyes so tightly that white spots dotted her vision. Her nails pressed into her palms. For some time, she had wanted to scream with intolerable pain—but not physical pain. Her soul was torn by an impending doom and endless sadness. There was only one thought helping her to refocus and get herself together: everything would be as before. She would be as before._

_Hermione opened her eyes, took a deep breath, and continued walking across the narrow hall, trying to stop thinking about what was waiting for her at the end. Soon she saw a well-known door, and her heart skipped a beat. Hermione suddenly wanted to turn around and run away, but there was no way back. Her legs were wobbly. She approached the door, mumbled an opening charm, and entered the room . . ._

"Hermione! Hermi-i-i-one! Wake up! You'll sleep through everything!"

Hermione shrugged. Somebody had removed her blanket and disturbed her dream with loud shouting.

Stop! Had it been a dream?

Hermione got out of her bed. Yes, it was only a dream. Hermione felt relief and, in the meantime, disappointment that she couldn't have seen the room she had been hurrying towards across the cold school hall.

"Wow! I really didn't expect to wake you up so quickly!" the redheaded troublemaker jumped into Hermione's bed. "Hope you're not angry at me!" Ginny said.

Hermione looked at her glumly. Not angry? It would be difficult to say so, considering the fact that she'd asked Ginny not to wake her up this way many times—but it would be useless to say anything. The youngest Weasley always did what she wanted.

Hermione looked around. This was her familiar small room, paneled with wood. The place was only big enough for a bed, a desk, and a wardrobe. Nevertheless, the room was cozy and light. There were magical photos of the Weasley family on the walls. In one, tanned and happy, they extended their arms to her from Egypt. In another they were at King's Cross railway station, but Charlie, Bill, and Percy were already absent. In another, Ginny and the twins sat on the steps of their house and laughed at something until they all cried. Hermione's heart squeezed as she looked at Fred achingly. He was careless in that photo, not fearing the war that would soon claim his life, together with a small part of everyone who had known him.

Hermione tossed her head, trying to banish the anxious flashbacks that had made her cry at night for many years after it happened.

"What time is it now?" she asked Ginny. Her voice was husky.

Ginny broke into a broad smile and stroked back her long red hair, which looked like forks of flame. "It's six o'clock in the morning, my dear, and we have many great things to do!" Ginny replied cheerfully, jumping from the bed and leaving with a dancing gait. "Okay, get dressed, and I'm going to make tea for us."

Hermione opened her mouth indignantly, trying to say something, but she closed it instantly and silently. No, this was too much! Ginny woke her up frequently, but in the early morning on her single day off? Growing anger made her fists clench. At that very instant, the door banged, meaning Ginny had already vanished into thin air.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley!" Hermione said, raising her voice. "Come back immediately and tell me what the devil made you wake me up at this ungodly hour!"

The door opened cautiously, revealing a smiling face. "Please, Hermione, don't be mad at me! But . . . I have something essential I want to share with you. And remember, I'll hardly be able to tell you about it if you start using me as target practice for indefensible charms!" Ginny said before finally entering the room again.

Hermione stared at her. It seemed she had the heebie-jeebies and looked confused. Ginny's cheerful carelessness had disappeared completely. By all appearances, she was really nervous and had been trying to hide her real emotions under a mask of gladness from the very beginning. Something had taken over her.

"What happened, Ginny?" Hermione asked, anxiously looking her in the eyes. This behavior was very unusual for Ginny, tomboy that she was. What had made her so nervous?

"Well, I really don't know how to tell you. Essentially, it's not that unexpected." Ginny pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and sat next to Hermione, trying to avoid looking at her. "But anyway, I want you to be the first to know about it—and as soon as possible." She glanced at Hermione quickly after these words, stood up from the bed again, and approached the window.

Hermione was patiently watching Ginny, possibilities racing through her mind. Did the news relate to Ron somehow? Ginny often told her about the ridiculous situations Ron got himself into. Or did it have to do with Molly in some way? Mrs. Weasley hadn't been feeling well lately. What if something had happened? No, Ginny would be acting differently if that were the case. Suddenly, Hermione got one shadowy guess. What about—

Ginny took a deep breath, turned to Hermione, looked at her emphatically, and confirmed her last thought: "We're getting married, me and Harry!"

Hermione was awestruck. Everything had suddenly connected to form a complete picture. Of course! How could she have missed it? A whole range of feelings flickered across Hermione's face for a couple of seconds: understanding, amazement, shock, enlightenment, and, in the end, sincere gladness.

"Well, it's not that unusual. We planned to marry long ago, but—" Ginny didn't finish, because Hermione had embraced her.

"Oh, Merlin! I'm very happy! Ginny, it's wonderful!" Happy tears ran down Hermione's cheeks.

She had seen Harry and Ginny's love growing right from the start. She had seen how much both of them had had to suffer to be together, and she knew Ginny was waiting for the next stage of her and Harry's relationship wholeheartedly. Harry hadn't been in a hurry to propose, almost as if he didn't believe the war was over. Now there was nothing threatening his loved ones, and everything was okay. Harry had begun to change in the past year after dealing with his long melancholia.

Frankly speaking, Hermione had suspected that a proposal wouldn't be long in coming, and now Harry and Ginny would soon walk down the aisle. Hermione was so happy for her friends that her heart was tearing. It was as if she had been the one proposed to instead of Ginny! There was no point in pretending that, though. Hermione had once gotten such a proposal, in an indirect sort of way.

One day, Ron had asked her about their married future. He was blushing lingeringly and painfully, shifting from foot to foot, but he fired off in one breath, "I'd like us to get married, to have a big house and many children. Well, someday."

They had been seeing each other for about two years already by that time and were potentially ready to move into the next stage of their relationship, but Hermione was in doubt as to whether marriage, family, and children were necessary at that very moment. She worked at the Ministry of Magic almost twenty-four hours per day, so she hardly had time for anything else.

But it was clear that Hermione had latched on to Ron incredibly during their time in school, and the war had made them an integral part of one another's lives. She just wasn't sure if she really loved Ron and was ready for everything, even though his allegiance was proof that he really loved her. This question was one Hermione could never answer.

Undoubtedly, she was grateful to Ron for all the time they had spent together—except as the times he had acted like a blithering idiot. Sometimes, she thought what they had was true love, but the longer they dated, the more Hermione understood that her love was more sisterly than the kind that ended with "and they lived happily ever after." Nevertheless, she continued to go out with him, accept and give presents, kiss him tenderly, and embrace passionately at night. Everything was so . . . simple? Habitual? Right? The Weasleys had become her family, and almost no one doubted that Hermione would also be Weasley and become an official member of this pureblood dynasty in the future.

However, that day almost six months ago, Hermione had answered differently than Ron expected. She had been silent for a long time and, at last, began talking haltingly, saying they should think about it, it was too early, they weren't ready for such a serious step . . . Ron had looked totally unhappy and blushed more, and Hermione hadn't felt any better. She had understood well that she could lose him then and forever.

They had argued, but the conflict was resolved quickly. Ron and Hermione together had decided to cool down a bit and think about everything maturely. Both of them understood that they should take a timeout in their relationships and become friends only, but it was obvious that everything was in Hermione's hands. She could only hint that they would be together.

But six months had passed, and she'd decided nothing. It seemed that Hermione was more lost than ever in her feelings and wishes. It was intolerable to see the painful question in Ron's eyes, but it was even more intolerable because Hermione had been unable to find a way to answer it.

For the time being.

"Hey, Hermione! HERMIONE! You'll squish me!" Ginny joked, pushing her aside. Then she added anxiously, "Is there something wrong?"

Hermione merely shook her head and smiled sadly. There shouldn't be any sadness on this bright day in the life of her best friend, whom Ginny had become over the past three years.

"How can something be wrong when two of my closest friends are getting married?" Hermione asked, trying to distract herself from gray thoughts and hoping Ginny wouldn't ask about her swiftly passing sadness. "But now I'm interested in only one thing: when?"

"I don't know," Ginny said teasingly. "You see, Harry proposed to me half an hour ago."

"So early? Did he wake you up to propose?" Hermione was surprised by Harry's eccentricity.

"Well, we haven't been sleeping together lately, and . . . I guess you understand what I mean." Ginny gave her a wink.

Hermione blushed a bit. Of course, she had known about her friend's sex life for a long time and had asked her for advice occasionally. It was difficult for anybody to embarrass Ginny, but she herself could make anyone blush with her immodest stories. However, thanks to Ginny, Hermione was sufficiently informed on sexual issues. Ginny had given her detailed instructions with "tutorials" on how to behave the first night with a guy—even though that guy was her brother.

"Okay, I think I'll go to Harry. I promised him not to disturb you for more than five minutes," Ginny said, heading to the door. "Sorry again that I woke you up, but it was such a . . . You know, I couldn't have not shared it with you."

"Of course, I know! Thank you, Ginny, for telling me about your wedding first. I appreciate it," Hermione said sincerely.

Ginny in turn embraced her tightly, trying to put all her feelings into it, and disappeared out the door.

Hermione took a deep breath. Undoubtedly, she was very happy for her best friends, but why was there such a strange feeling of grief in her mind? Why did she, trying to imagine Ginny in a wedding dress, see herself there, lost and lonely?

The answer came to her quickly.

Her and Ron's potential wedding had been discussed just as much, but their hopes hadn't come true.

"Well, I'm sure you're wondering why we've gathered all of you here," Ginny said loudly.

Everybody stopped talking at once, and an ideal silence ensued in the room.

There were a lot of people in the Weasleys' small living room: a bemused Ron; a grinning George with Jane, his bride; Bill, embracing his beauty, Fleur; a pompous Percy (it was worth noting that his arrogance had diminished reasonably over the past four years); a stocky Charlie, who seemed not to have changed even a bit; Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, looking warmly at their daughter (it seemed both of them already knew everything); an embarrassed and still awkward Neville Longbottom, with an imperturbable Luna Lovegood, wearing her radish earrings, which were able to change colors periodically; a huge Hagrid in his terrible ceremonial dress; and, finally, Hermione, looking at her friends and smiling cheerfully.

"Well, we won't test your patience anymore," Ginny continued. "I'm turning the floor over to Harry!" She smiled warmly at him, yet Harry himself looked stunned. "You should do this, Harry," Ginny said seriously so that only he could hear her.

Harry collected himself and glanced at his cherished people, who had been with him for all these years. It was amazing. He wasn't afraid of combat with the darkest wizard ever, he wasn't afraid of any dangers lying in wait, he wasn't afraid to die at any time, but now . . . it was as though Harry had been struck by a Confundus charm repeatedly. He should say something that was very important to him.

Harry glanced at his friends. Hermione smiled to him encouragingly, and then, when he shifted his gaze to Ron, he got embarrassed. He felt ashamed. He hadn't even had time to tell Ron, and he had failed to work up the courage to do this.

Finally, Harry cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and blurted out, "Me and Ginny, we've decided to get married. The wedding will be in autumn, in September, but we haven't chosen the exact date."

"And we'd like all of you to be with us on this happy day!" Ginny added, blushing slightly. "It's very important to us."

There was a stony silence for a few seconds. Following that, the living room burst into a dozen merry voices, and everybody rushed to congratulate the young couple.

Hermione leaned against a doorpost and observed the joyful bustle that prevailed in the living room. Harry and Ginny were overwhelmed by warm embraces from their friends and relatives. Only Hermione and Ron remained at their places. Ron? Hermione shifted her gaze to her friend, who was standing stone-still with a petrified face.

I expected this, Hermione thought as she approached him.

"Ron!" Hermione said, but he wasn't paying attention. He shrank a bit when her hand touched his shoulder. Hermione chose her words carefully. "Ron, they've been dating for a long time, so it's not such a surprise."

"Did you know?" Ron interrupted her, staring straight ahead.

Hermione was at a loss but collected herself instantly. "Well . . . I . . . don't think I was aware a long time ago, but—"

Ron interrupted her again. He clenched his fists, turned to her, and looked her straight in the eyes. "You knew," he stated.

It wasn't a question, and Hermione finally understood the reason for his displeasure.

"He didn't tell me either, Ron. Ginny told me early this morning when everyone was sleeping. I'm not sure whether Harry knew about that," she said, looking straight at him. "Moreover, I think you're being inappropriate. Look how happy they are!"

Hermione pointed to her friends. Mrs. Weasley was kissing Harry on both cheeks, and Hagrid was drying tears with a huge and dirty napkin, embracing Ginny with the other hand. Ginny saw Ron and Hermione looking at her, beamed to them, and made a face at her brother. Hermione waved to her friends and then looked at Ron cautiously. It seemed two conflicting emotions were struggling in his soul, because he was squaring his fists and shifting from one leg to another. Finally, he jerked up his head proudly and went to Harry and Ginny.

"Ron!" Hermione called, but he waved her aside and continued on his way. She bit her lip, praying Ron wouldn't do anything unnecessary.

Harry smiled guiltily at his friend. His round glasses were crooked, and his rebellious hair seemed to blow out even more. When there were only a few steps between the friends, Ron stopped short and looked at Harry with a bit of challenge, then turned to Ginny.

"By the way, I knew everything already. I knew he would propose to you."

"So how did you know?" Ginny teased her brother, having crossed her arms over her breasts.

"I found the ring when I was searching for my Quidditch gloves." Ron smiled apologetically. "Well, congratulations!" Ron embraced his sister roughly and then shook Harry's hand after some hesitation. "Keep her safe, mate!" he said, looking surely at his friend. "I don't know why, but she loves you more than all of us put together."

"I love her more than life," Harry replied seriously.

Ron nodded shortly, blinked, and stepped aside.

It was such a stirring moment. Hermione brushed a tear from the corner of her eye and approached her best friends. Silently, she held Ginny and then Harry tightly. She was sure they would understand everything without words, and she was convinced of it when Harry said "Thank you" quietly.

_July 20, 2002_

_I remember the moment when I saw her for the first time. It happened somewhere in Italy, in one of those cities that were similar in appearance and different in name only. My father had been in jail for two years already by that time, and my mother was in the long doldrums, pacifying her endless loneliness with alcohol. As for me, I was trying to run away from my life, moving from city to city._

_Letters from so-called friends, relatives, and those who needed something from me (skunks from the Ministry of Magic, as a rule) were pursuing me like hounds. The letters were similar to each other, the difference in wording only. Pansy Parkinson begged to come back to my mother's homeland and asked to "stop escaping from all this postwar bullshit". Lucius, on the other hand, affirmed that I myself was "a sneaky piece of shit,_ _undeserving of the proud Malfoy surname". Fuck off, Lucius, even if you are always right! I'm spitting on this rightness. I'm spitting on all the blind drunk letters from my mother saying that I'm an ungrateful animal. I'm spitting on the Dark Lord and his war. I'm spitting on all the fucking life I have left in England. _

_So I don't remember how I arrived in Italy, but I remember why, and I also remember the moment I met her for the first time. _

_She had short fine black hair, a long fringe covering half her face. She was like a boy with her slick angularity. It seemed she was the only girl in that old ramshackle boozer, although she was certainly not. I mean all other girls faded in comparison with her, so unusual for Italy. She was sitting at the table with four suspicious men wearing shabby cloaks, speaking Italian loudly and gesticulating actively._

_I approached the bar, trying to understand whether she was a local or not, and asked the old barman with sad eyes to give me a double portion of firewhiskey. I had a big swallow and continued to watch her. She had a shabby (but undoubtedly expensive) charcoal-gray cloak, skin too sallow for an Italian, an impudent short haircut, and big eyes rimmed by thick black liner. Everything about her was a challenge and something else . . . _

_The deep baritone of the barman mentioned somebody's name—Elissa Carrera—and it diverted me from my thoughts. When I turned back, I saw he was looking at me and, apparently, speaking to me. When I asked him what he was talking about, the old man explained wearily that the girl I was watching was Elissa Carrera. She had been coming here every Friday for about a year already and was always talking with someone. The barman also said that the girl's temper was far from sugary, so it was better not to approach to her, especially when she was talking with "those people"._

_I looked towards them and noticed that they were frowning, listening to her furious tirade. So the barman was right. I grimly thanked the old man for the information and turned to her again. Elissa Carrera. I pronounced her name like I wanted to taste it. She went silent at that very moment and looked at me. She was staring at me through slitted eyes as though testing my strength, and I was answering in kind. This wordless game finished with us both at one table in an hour and in one bed at a cheap hotel in two hours._

_I didn't recognize where all that could lead, but I felt that my life would change totally from that very moment, and I was right at the time. _

_P. S. It's freaking strange, but it seems you're the only one I can tell all this trash about my life. Let you be just a diary. _

_D. M._


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_Soundtrack – All Good Things by Nelly Furtado_

"Urgent call again?" Ron asked with a bored tone, turning the pages of _Quidditch Today_ magazine lazily.

Hermione answered him from the adjacent room:

"Yes, article No.75.1 has been violated. Oh, Merlin, where is this bloody book?"

It was Sunday morning of a wonderful July day. It seemed the sun had penetrated into each quiet corner of the house clearly intending to divulge darkness and gloom totally. Those were the days when the Burrow reflected the atmosphere in the friendly Weasley family in the best possible way. The awkward multistory house was not big, but it shed coziness and warm light. Each detail and each interior element wrote themselves: weathered furniture with slight tree fragrance, multicolored carpets made my Mrs. Weasley herself, handmade clay pots with different magical plants inside, marvelous clock showing the location of each family member at any time, squeaking floor boards fixing anyone's presence instantly, and continuous cheerful hubbub of voices. Anyone who had visited the Burrow at least once would like to come back again. The doors were always open for every guest.

"What article?" Ron asked again, but he heard fuss only in the adjacent room instead of the answer, so he added: "What are you looking for?"

"I have found already!" Hermione appeared in the doorway with a thick book and explained with a bit of temper: "Article number seventy five point one, "Violation of the law about the limitation of magic application towards muggle electric devices in the presence of individuals threatening the confidentiality of the Magical World."

"Have you learnt all this, whatsename, code by heart?" Ron asked dazedly staring at the huge book.

Hermione looked at him murderously and replied drily:

"All this", Ron, is named as the Criminal Code of the Magical World!"

"Huh, what's the difference?" Weasley waved aside. "I need it like a hole in the head!"

Hermione shook her head reproachfully, but she decided to stop the discussion. Instead, she came out to the hall and suddenly met Harry there who had just woken up judging by his appearance.

"Good morning!" Potter yawned, looked at Hermione and then added: "Where are you going at this unearthly hour? It is 9 o'clock only!"

"Urgent call from the Ministry of Magic," she replied, putting on her shoes. "Somebody planted a charmed hair drier to a muggle family."

"What? Are they unable to do anything without you?!" Harry rounded his eyes. "Drop it, Hermione! You are working for three employees and you cannot afford yourself to have a rest even on weekend!"

"I do my job only," Hermione explained for the hundredth time and opened the entrance door. "Okay, I have gone! I'll come back soon!"

The door closed, and a hollow pat informed that Hermione had apparated.

"Aha, she always says so and then comes back late at night," Ron said discontentedly and continued to thumb his magazine. "The more I live the more I am convinced that people do not change."

"You'd think you are hundred years old!" Harry smiled ironically and entered the living room.

"That could well be the case! You know, I heard somewhere that a person's psychological age often differs from a biological one," Ron said. He looked like an expert.

"I agree. But if your psychological age is maximum thirteen only!" the guys heard Ginny's voice. She was stepping down from the stairs. Ginny jinked expertly from the toss pillow thrown to her by Ron, approached to Harry and kissed him.

"Good morning to you also, dear sister!" Ron taunted, and Ginny made a mouth to him.

"Well, guys, to be honest, I am worrying about Hermione," Harry sat on the sofa and embraced Ginny. "She became irritable in these latter days."

"It is not the word for it," Ron confirmed and frowned.

He suffered a lot from Hermione for some time passed. Of course, he was in fault in many situations, but Hermione was really more patient previously.

"What I say is not a surprise. Hermione did not go on vacation at all for these four years of her work in the Ministry of Magiс," Ginny expressed clearly having embraced Harry. "She even works 24/7 lately. Anyone will become irritable after such load even if you are Hermione Granger with superhuman abilities!"

"She should have a rest," Ron grumbled. "Perhaps she will be kinder."

Everybody was keeping silence for some time thinking about this conversation. The silence was disturbed by Harry. He looked like a genius idea had just blessed his head.

"Rest … of course!" he slapped himself on the forehead. "I totally forgot to tell you! I have great news for you!"

Harry was really full of prunes. He jumped from the sofa and turned to his friends:

"Remember how the Ministry was clattering that "Harry Potter and his brave friends would receive an award for the redemption of the Magic World obligatorily" and something like this on every street corner four years ago when the war was over?"

"Yeah, indeed, I remember something," Ron paused to think and then slammed his fist on the table. "Earbashers! They have promised the moon to us, but the award was the Order of Merlin only!

"Well, the Order of Merlin is not a bad award," Harry noted fairly.

"Yeas, but I…" Ron did not want to capitulate.

"Oh, shut up, Ron! Let Harry finish," Ginny said to her brother irritatingly. He frowned at her and ceased.

"So," Harry continued, "yesterday, when I was in the Ministry, Stivius Colman called me to his office. Now try to guess what he has said?"

"I am scaring to assume," Ginny sniffed unkindly.

She really did not like this new Minister of Magic. She thought he talked too much, but did too less. Generally, Stivius Colman was not a bad person, but, unfortunately, he did not have enough capabilities to be a Manager. Ginny often said that they could hardly find a Minister better than Kingsley Shacklebolt, and her friends agreed with her. They frequently tried to persuade Kingsley to agree for the position of the Minister proposed to him continually in the Ministry of Magic, but he waved only, ambiguously saying that "it is not the time". However, it was whispered that Stivius Colman would leave his position soon and give it to none other than Kingsley Shacklebolt, and friends were looking forward to that moment

"Colman apologized for such long non-fulfillment of his promise regarding our reward and hoped I would accept a present from the Ministry of Magic containing four tickets to Italy to "the best resort of the Magical World", he said, where I can spend my vacation with my loved ones as a first step. Umm … What's the name? La Mia … Mia Magnolia … La Bella …"

Harry wrinkled his forehead trying to remember the exact name. But the reaction of his friends was strange.

"What happened?" he asked.

Ron and Ginny looked stunned.

"Is it _La Mia Bella Magnolia_ by any chance?" Ginny asked quietly.

"Yes! Exactly! _La Mia Bella Magnolia_! They really worked hard choosing the name!" Harry exclaimed and then added make a long face. "I told Colman that I should think about it and would like to refuse in the first instance. Well, I really did not want to accept any presents from the Ministry of Magic after the war where we could only count on our own efforts with hardly support from the Ministry mildly speaking. Nevertheless, I understand that the refusal will be even worse: they will not let me live calmly. Colman hinted to it cursorily. You see, he feels an acute need to compensate "psychological damage inflicted on us because of such delay in keeping of his promise" somehow. That was how he had stated."

"What about the compensation for the lack of brains?" Ginny flung off and crossed arms on her breast. "Even four tickets to the best resort of the Magical World is nothing in comparison with all that we had to meet with "thanks to" short views of the Ministry of Magic!"

"Well, Ginny, you are right, of course, but however, what's wrong if we use the possibility?" Ron reacted quickly trying to change her mind. "Harry will not lose anything if he accepts these tickets. He himself told that the Ministry would not get off back, and nobody needs one more unnecessary conflict. Am I right, Harry?"

Ron looked at him with hope, searching for the approval. Harry did not reply anything and closed his eyes for a second willing to concentrate on the topic and then said slowly with another voice tone:

"Yes, Ron, I think you are right in some points: if my agreement is the best solution for this situation, it will be silly to refuse of this possibility. Well, and I did not go on vacation from the moment I had become an auror."

Ron snapped his fingers when he heard Harry's words and nodded approvingly having leaned forward a bit. Harry did not notice it, spaced out for a moment and continued to talk:

"Of course, it would be great for all of us to escape somewhere away from routine worries for two weeks and spend good vacation. Moreover, we have been planning them for a long time. But is it worth following the Ministry for the saint of that? I don't know."

Harry put off his glasses and rubbed his eyes wearily.

"Well, the decision is up to you," Harry said after brief silence. "I would never win Voldemort without you, so nobody would propose such award to me. The destiny of the tickets is at your hands justifiably because I am still in doubts whether we should accept such present. So, what do you think, guys?"

Harry glanced at Ron and Ginny and got a scare for a while, thinking he said something wrong. They were looking at him like he was a calamari that started to speak suddenly.

"You ask what we think about it…" Ron said finally. "Are you a donkey, Harry?"

"Oh, stop it, Ron!" Ginny interrupted him quickly. "It is evident that Harry did not hear anything about Magnolia. Generally his minds about the Ministry and their charities are quite reasonable."

"Ginny, he will have much more problems if he refuses of Colman's proposal other than accepts those tickets! Besides, Harry's minds about the rest we have been planning for such a long time are also "quite reasonable"!" Ron monkeyed her.

Harry sat on the sofa and adjusted his crooked glasses.

"Wait a minute, what should I know about this resort and how does it relate to Colman's proposal?" he asked.

Ginny embraced him, drew in breath and started softly:

"Honey, frankly speaking, these tickets are not simply good present from the Ministry, they are wonderful present! We all know that nothing can ever compensate all losses we suffered during the war, but this trip could be very useful."

"La Mia Bella Magnolia is the best resort in the Magical World. Many people dream to go there just once in their life!" Ron continued enthusiastically having pronounced the resort's name with an Italian accent and then added with a disappointment: "But not everybody can make this dream come true because it is very expensive. Harry, I even could not dream on the vacation there, do you get what I mean?"

"Yes, it is expensive, but it is well worth the effort: I heard many stories when critically ill patients recovered having swum in the sea where Magnolia is situated," Ginny interrupted Ron feelingly, "or stories when many people felt themselves happy having come there. Well, all these are only talks. Magnolia is a total mystery. Nobody can say exactly, what is happening at this resort. Besides, there are plenty of legends about it…"

"Essentially, Harry, it is a real chance that can be given once only! Agree, bro!" Ron did not let Ginny finish and grabbed Harry's hand.

Harry was discouraged. These two did not let him say a word. What on earth is this place if even Ginny is tending towards the acceptance of Colman's present?

Breathless silence could be cut with a knife for some time in the room: Harry was thinking about the words he'd heard, Ginny and Ron were waiting for his verdict. Finally, Harry started speaking:

"Well, I have thought about it and made a decision: I will go to the Minister tomorrow and grab the tickets if it is so important for you! We will go to this, whatsename, Bella Magnolia, in August and have a wonderful vacation there!"

"Great decision, bro!" Ron swished the air with his fist, jumped from the sofa and embraced Harry brotherly. Harry, in his turn, did not have any doubts that Ron would welcome his decision, so his friend's reaction was not a surprise. Now he was more interested what Ginny would say because she did not look very confident.

"Ginny, dear, and what is your opinion? The last word is yours." Harry asked cautiously.

Ginny looked confused and was biting her lip excitedly.

"Harry, the present is too expensive and … Anyhow, the tickets are your award. So it may be that you planned to dispose them in other way? Probably you'd prefer to refuse at all?"

Harry exhaled and laughed silently. If the case is that only … Harry took her chin and looked at her eyes narrowly:

"Ginny, Minister advised me to share my "well-deserved rest" with my loved ones. I know that you consider Ron a jackass, but now I agree with him completely. I do not have anybody closer than you, Ron and Hermione, and if I am going on vacation, I will do it with you only. If you do not want to go there, I will understand your decision and refuse of the tickets. You are my bride, I love you insanely, and your opinion is very important for me."

Harry attracted Ginny after saying these words and kissed her tenderly. Harry was grateful to destiny for Ginny every single day of the whole period of their relationship. He forgot the horror of the past being next to her, and deep wounds made by the war incarnated quicker. It seemed she was everything for him at the same time: friend, mother, and loved one. Harry always adored her ability to personate. He equally adored how she felt him, guessed all his desires and knew what to say at a given time. Nobody else could do this. Every their kiss was as the first one, and now Harry did not want to pry himself away from her soft lips. But displeased cough of Ron made him do this, however.

"Of course, I understand everything, but we still have one unsolved issue!" Ron said discontentedly and crossed his arms on his breast.

"Huh, you are your usual self," Ginny said discontentedly and moved over from Harry unwillingly. She noticed that _amazing_ Ron's ability to intervene somewhere at the most inappropriate moment as early as they had studied on the 4th course.

"You know, I will agree with Ron this time," Harry smiled looking at Ginny. "We really do not have any solution and everything depends on you."

Ginny turned her eyes from harry to Ron suspiciously. The last one was looking at her beggarly. So, Ginny exhaled and said:

"Okay, I agree!"

Guys did not have time to show all their delight because Ginny added:

"But we have one "but"…"

Ron and Harry looked at each other uncomprehendingly and then heard a ringing voice from the hall:

"Well, I am back! Quickly as I promised! Bet on it you did not expect my coming back so soon!"

And they understood what Ginny was talking about.

"Hermione!" they have said in unison.

_July 25, 2002 _

_It is raining heavily in London. El says I have become the victim of a morbid devil again and "we should do something with it". Her attempts to put me out of this condition were always funny, but they were rarely efficient until the last. But I have to give her credit: this crazy Italian managed to draw me off. Hope she will have an idea, other than riding on furious dragons. Now I understand the condition of Potter and other idiots competing for that fucking Cup of the Triwizard Tournament on the doorstep of the insane fire-breathing beast. _

_Me and El have been in my native manor for two months already. My mother is crazy about her, and it was predictable. She even has stopped drinking. She is hinting at marriage, children and other sentimental trash with increasing frequency. But I don't need all these at all presently. What does El think about it? I don't know. I was always pleased by her manner not to put strain on me. She never asked for some specific attitude to her personality and did not hint at "the seriousness of our relationship" as Parkinson did during the time of our silly semi-child's "love". My__dear__El__. __How__can__she__abide__me__?_

_My mother talks about Lucius come back from Azkaban sometimes. She says he has almost managed to fix everything. Oh, Merlin, I heard these bitchy words too often. "He ALMOST managed to fix everything". Bloody Lucius. He was always ready to "fix everything", but our family found itself in mud again and again._

"Draco, are you writing something I will never be able to read into your diary?"

Suddenness made Draco shiver. He took his eyes off yellowed pages. El was standing in the doorway. Elissa Carrera was one and only who managed to change the course of his life so rapidly. Draco swept his eyes over her and smiled. She had smartened significantly and returned her former gloss during the year of their relationship. She was very elegant, her black hair was set tidily. She was wonderful in her dark-blue dress and without shoes. She was not that reckless girl he had met a year ago in a cheap Italian pub anymore. Her oblique forelock disappeared, shabby cloak changed to the most expensive clothes made of exclusive fabrics available for purchasing by a limited number of even very rich wizards. However, Malfoy could allow himself a lot. And he has never been stingy for El's knickknacks. As a result, he had got a luxurious woman who knew what her price was and what she had deserved.

Draco put his diary aside, mumbled a locking charm to avoid its opening by anybody and stood up from the armchair. Elissa was observing him, having raised her lips edges slightly. She got to know about his habit to write about almost every moment of his life after the first night spent together. Draco never told her why he was writing in that old diary, but she knew that it was very important for him.

"That's exactly right, honey," Draco pronounced slowly, shortening the distance to Elissa. "Unfortunately, you will never read even a line from it if I myself do not allow you, of course."

"_Mio caro Draco_**, _reading of you_ is enough for me", El purred with an Italian accent.

Malfoy grinned and attracted her softly.

"It is bloody difficult, I guess," he muttered in her ear, and she began shivering.

"You cannot imagine how difficult," El exhaled and drowned in a passion kiss of the most strange person in the world she had ever met as she said. But she was addicted to him more than to any other man.

*_La Mia Bella Magnolia_ – My Beautiful Magnolia (Italian).

**_Mio caro Draco_ – My dear Draco (Italian).


End file.
